


Tonight is set to last

by AscertainHope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comeplay, Dom/sub Undertones, Double Penetration, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 11:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AscertainHope/pseuds/AscertainHope
Summary: Viktor's always willing to go along with Yuuri's ideas.It'll probably be the death of him; he can't think of a better way to go.





	

They've been at it for hours.

It started with Yuuri pushing him down on the bed, Viktor's laughter at Yuuri's impatience cut off when Yuuri swallowed him at once, and Yuuri blowing him hard and fast. It took Yuuri two minutes and nothing but his cheeks hollowed in suction, not a hint of tongue, fingers keeping Viktor's hips tight in place, to suck the orgasm from Viktor's dick, and what felt like Viktor's brains with it. Two minutes and Viktor was undone, breath gone fuck knew where, burning up under his clothes, post-orgasmic before he even knew it. 

Yuuri didn't even bother to spit, just swallowed the load. There were a few drops threatening to dribble down at the corner of his lips, shinier than his slick-shiny lips, arresting Viktor's eyes. His tongue darted out and swiped it down like he didn't even need to think about it, as he stood up again, pinning Viktor under his gaze, and Viktor thought he was in it for good this time. This was it, he was going to die, pulled apart under Yuuri Katsuki's ruthless mastery of his body, if Yuuri didn't give him a heart attack first.

That didn't happen. Instead Yuuri scrambled to straddle him, the fly of his pants barely open, tented over his hard-on. Viktor lifted a brow, the world made soft and warm with his orgasm, filled with tenderness for Yuuri's impatience even in the face of his imminent demise.

"Need a hand?" He didn't wait for an answer before slipping his fingers down Yuuri's pants, stroking him, marvelling – Yuuri was so hard already, it was going to be amazing.

"Ah—" Yuuri caught his wrist. "—don't."

Viktor looked up at him, smile stilled in confusion. Yuuri's cheeks were bright already, sex flush or blush. Yuuri's bashfulness caught up with him at the most amazing times, and it was impossibly endearing to see Yuuri barrel through his own inhibitions.

Yuuri licked his lips, more resolved than seductive.

"Let's make this last."

Viktor's breath stuttered, and he nodded in understanding. He _was_ in it for good. Good thing tomorrow was their rest day; when Yuuri chose to _make it last_ , he'd fuck Viktor for hours and hours, long past Viktor's begging for mercy devolved into sloppy babbling. Viktor never was in a state to skate without embarrassing himself the day after. Not because he'd pull something – god, Yuuri was never more dizzyingly, maddeningly gentle than when he reduced Viktor to a sobbing, whimpering mess, gagging on his own need – but he needed the whole day to become solid again, for his bones and joints and muscles to emerge out of his liquefied state.

Yuuri's Adam apple bobbed.

"Help me get these off," he said, and he sounded wrecked.

It took a while; or at least longer than Viktor thought it would, given Yuuri's earlier urgency. Yuuri was getting distracted taking Viktor's shirt off, running his hands on Viktor's shoulders and down his arms, his chest, again and again. He only helped taking his own pants off when Viktor lifted him, pants and boxers pushed down mid-thighs, and then he rolled off and tore them off.

"Yours, too," Yuuri said, walking around to the bedside table, cock jutting up against his stomach. Viktor swallowed, and looked away, stripping down faster.

The mattress dipped when Yuuri straddled his thighs again. He had the bottle of lube in one hand, the six-inch blue dildo in the other, and an expression that suggested that if the floor opened up under his feet he'd wrestle his own blush into the abyss himself.

"It's. If you want. For me."

Anything.

"Yeah, okay," Viktor agreed, like he would have agreed to any demand Yuuri made with that choked, determined voice, and tried to spread.

The dildo fell from Yuuri's grip and bounced off of Viktor's side. Yuuri put the flat of his hand on Viktor's chest and pushed, stopping him.

Viktor looked up,. He followed the toned lines of Yuuri's arm until he was gazing at Yuuri's face, Yuuri's lips red from the blowjob, hair a mess from shucking his shirt off, his eyes intensely focused.

"I mean I want you to use it on me."

 

This was three hours ago.

Since then, they've prepped Yuuri up. They've lubed him up, and they've filled him with their fingers, curling inside Yuuri as his back arched. Yuuri's index finger crooked, forcing Viktor's to bend as well, and Yuuri's breath exploded in tiny, bitten off gasps. They've poured more lube on the dildo, and they've stretched him with it, fucking it slowly in and out, until Yuuri's hole loosened enough that Viktor could position the tip and tuck it in with one smooth slide, watching Yuuri's face for signs of discomfort and only finding naked, hungry bliss. 

At some point – Viktor's not sure when, between Viktor slipping in a finger next to the dildo when Yuuri told him to (then another, and _another_ , Yuuri demanded hoarsely), and Yuuri giving his own balls a brief, sharp squeeze to stall off an orgasm – Viktor got hard again.

Then Yuuri – still propping himself up on Viktor – guided him inside, dislodging the toy off just enough to make room for the head of Viktor's dick, ready to push in. Viktor's cock nudged the toy with every micro-inch he pressed inside, Yuuri's body a furnace around him. Yuuri was gritting his teeth on shouts or whimpers, Viktor too stunned to ask him to let it out. He was struck dumb; he could feel the other shaft crammed inside Yuuri rubbing against him with every breath either of them took, like a punch low in his belly. Yuuri was bracing himself on Viktor's arms, clasping hard to make up for the sweat he'd worked up, and he worked at sliding down, inch by incremental inch. His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"You don't have to, Yuuri, we can stop," Viktor babbled.

Yuuri's grip tightened on him in answer. "I can do this. Just stay with me."

"Okay." Viktor ran his hands down Yuuri's chest, the skin hot under his touch, muscles taut. "You've tensed up. Slow down," he said, ignoring the way his dick was pulsating when he thought about Yuuri taking him whole, Yuuri's ass split open on the toy.

Yuuri closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell slowly, until his head was hanging low.

"Maybe push in yourself? I don't have enough hands to hold myself up _and_ fuck myself with the dildo and your cock," he said, short and blunt like he got when sex or skate lit him enough. It made Yuuri an incandescent creature, all laser-like focus and unknown limits, inhibitions blazed away. "Get it in me already."

"My hands and cock are all yours," Viktor promised.

Yuuri let out a silent exhale, maybe a gust of a laugh, that brushed hot against Viktor's skin. Viktor groped for the base of the dildo and held it as he pushed in, slow, slow, and Yuuri pushed out a low, long moan. Halfway in, the water in Yuuri's eyes spilled over, and Viktor _almost_ stopped.

"Don't you dare!" Yuuri's voice whipped, rough with effort. "I'll be better when you're in me, it's just frustration."

Viktor opened his mouth to check Yuuri was really sure – Yuuri didn't mind tears in bed, but so far they'd all been Viktor's – but Yuuri cut him off by pushing down, taking him by a good half inch.

"Fuck!" Viktor's hands flew to Yuuri's hips – to steady him – more probably to slam him all the way down, Yuuri was so hot and close and _full_ , Viktor's dick wanted so badly to be inside – but by the time he touched Yuuri's hips he'd come back to his senses. _Steady._ He breathed in and out. He was the one who needed steadying, more than Yuuri. 

Yuuri who smirked.

"Right. Stay just like this, if you can't do as you're told."

"Yes, _coach_ ," Viktor replied, lips curled in a smile.

Yuuri huffed. "You do talk back."

"Aren't I good enough to afford to?" As they bantered, Viktor put his fingers on the base of the toy again, so he could hold the toy in place while Yuuri screwed himself down. The tip of his fingers skimmed against Yuuri's rim in time with Yuuri's rocking, feather-light against the tender flesh, and Yuuri hissed every time it happened. 

It was the work of minutes that stretched like the most delicious torture until Yuuri finally stopped, seated on Viktor's lap, mouth slack.

"I—god. Oh, god."

Viktor smiled, smug.

Yuuri's throat worked silently for several seconds. His thighs shivered, suddenly free from the exertion of holding him up. Viktor stroked them comfortingly.

"That's it, you're in – you're all inside, right? And the dildo, all of it?"

"Almost," Viktor said, and he finished pushing the toy in as he thrust just slightly out – and then the other way around, out with the toy, in with his dick, just a few millimeters, just enough to cause friction.

Yuuri almost fell down on him. 

"Fuck, Viktor, don't--" he braced himself back up. "I don't want to come yet, all right? Let me feel it, I want to enjoy this."

Viktor was sheathed to the balls, a dick-sized dildo snug against him inside Yuuri, so hard he could dril a hole in the plastic, and Yuuri hadn't even come once yet. Was telling him he wasn't planning on coming any time soon. _Wow._

Until he and the dildo had both been buried in Yuuri's ass, he'd had doubts they would even _fit_. He'd never have said it, of course, not when Yuuri was giving it his all, but he'd seen what size the toy was and he'd remembered how when he's inside Yuuri, he feels the vibrations of Yuuri's noises squeezing around his cock. 

Clearly he should have had more faith.

 

Now they're here, Yuuri riding Viktor, grinding in slow rotations that fill the air with wet sounds, from how much lube they've used and Viktor's precome mixing inside Yuuri and squelching out, the most intimate song of their obscene soundtrack. His hair is slicked back with sweat, his eyes blown-out. He looks like he's going for gold in sex, trying to set a world record for fucking his own brains out. Viktor's the one holding that title, but he'll gladly relinquish it tonight if it means Yuuri making them slowly lose it in this bed.

Viktor's muscles scream for release, palms flat on Yuuri's thighs. Yuuri allows them so long as Viktor keeps still, with no regard for how much Viktor wants to touch him, to run his hands all over him, chase the shivers breaking under his skin and feed them caresses.

His own breathing has grown labored like Yuuri's. He's holding his orgasm in, but at least Yuuri doesn't ask him to also hold his voice in.

"You're amazing, Yuuri, you take me so well."

Yuuri's dick dribbles when Viktor praises him, so he makes to swipe the tip with his thumb, but Yuuri seizes his hand and pins it to the bed.

"Do I need to handcuff you?"

Oh, _fuck_. Heroically, Viktor refrains from ramming up.

Viktor considers calling his bluff; the rhythm of Yuuri's hips is far too consistent for for him to be able to up and go all the way to the bedside table, but on the off-chance Yuuri would, he keeps his mouth shut. There's absolutely no way he won't shoot his load if Yuuri goes through the process of fitting him inside again, alongside the dildo. Not for the first time, Viktor wishes Yuuri believed in cock rings.

"No. Sorry."

"I want to come just from your cock," Yuuri says, and Viktor's dick twitches. Yuuri's eyes widen – he's definitely felt it – and his hand shakes when he reaches up, fingers of his right hand lacing with Viktor's, fingers of his left hand curling to brush Viktor's cheek. "Can you do that for me?"

Viktor takes a deep breath. Tears his eyes away from Yuuri's painfully red dick, and the way it visibly throbs when Viktor nods. Tries for a smile that probably comes off watery.

Yuuri starts moving again, slow, bends until he can whisper in Viktor's ear. "Tell me again how good I am."

This time, Viktor's laughter comes out broken.

" _Yuuri_ , you're going to kill me. Do you know what you do to me? I want you to use me until you can feel the memory of me when you dream. I want to fill you up until you're never empty again."

Yuuri sobs. "Not yet, not--"

He's been teetering on the brink of orgasm for hours now, teasing himself with Viktor and denying both of them. Each of his gasps puffs out more ragged than the last, drives him down deeper onto Viktor's cock; Viktor can feel Yuuri's breathing through his dick, through how close they are to each other. Yuuri's thighs, framing Viktor's sides, are trembling with the strain. 

At first he'd welcome Viktor's attempts to wind him up further, be it with small touches or with encouragements, but now it seems even that's too much. He's slapped his hand on Viktor's mouth, and so close, Viktor can see how Yuuri's pupils have eaten his irises, nothing left but a thin, burning circle of brown, like the halo of a solar eclipse. If it means going blind watching him, Viktor won't tear his eyes away.

"If you make me come before I say so," Yuuri breathes out, "you're not coming at all." He takes a breath, licks his lips. "Nod if you get it."

It's all Viktor can do to acquiesce. And pray his dick doesn't implode from Yuuri threatening him, that would ruin the mood.

Yuuri doesn't smile when Viktor's agreement registers; he never does at this stage. Sometimes Yuuri's switch flips in the middle of sex, like it does when he's about to take to the ice, the rest of the world falls away, and that's when he'll take and take and demand Viktor helps him push his body beyond his limits. Sometimes he'll call back to an exclamation that fell from Viktor's mouth days ago, sex-high musings goaded out of him by lust and endorphins, and he'll pull it into reality. 

_You're always telling me not to come_ , Viktor whined last month, so high after coming from Yuuri tasting him for what seemed like hours he forgot exactly what he'd said in the afterglow, _what about you? How do you know how long you can really last, Yuuri?_

Forgot until now.

Oh. This is why.

Yuuri takes his hand away, and leans back with a long, raspy groan. Viktor's fingers grasp at the sheets, knotting in the fabric. 

"Just watch me," Yuuri says, eyes half-closed and head tilted back, voice absolutely fucked out. He sounds like Viktor's had him screaming for hours.

Viktor's not allowed to touch, not allowed to thrust, not – until Yuuri says so – not really allowed to speak, not allowed to tell Yuuri he's the hottest thing Viktor has ever seen, not allowed to tell him Viktor's never been with someone that he fit so well.

All he can do is let Yuuri take him, let himself be pulled under by how tight he is, the friction against his cock. His abs and the muscles of his thighs clench in time with Yuuri's slide-screw motions, catching the bottom of Yuuri's ass as he drags against him.

Riding Viktor's cock, Yuuri's a work of art. Viktor's gaze flicks over every inch of him, hungry for sight if nothing else. 

Yuuri's cock is leaking, a thin, steady rivulet of precome glistening down his shaft. It looks almost painful, and Yuuri's not touching it. His right hand is playing with his nipples, pinching and teasing. He's hooked the fingers of his left hand in his mouth, not even sucking or smothering the incessant little noises coming from him, just – slotting them there like he can't stand having even one hole empty; they skid in and out at an ill-timed pace, spilling drool over his lips and down his chin.

Viktor's feeling very restrained, with the way he's not reaching for Yuuri's dick and wrapping a helping hand around him like Yuuri desperately needs. Yuuri's not really _bouncing_ , just screwing on him, sideways and dirty, and his cock keeps curving into the air like a wave for help, and if Yuuri keeps doing both Viktor's not sure how long he's going to stay restrained.

"Maybe you _should_ tie me up," he grits out. "I want to touch you so bad, Yuuri."

Wide, glazed eyes stare down at him. Yuuri removes his fingers from his mouth; they pop out wetly, a thread of spit stretching until, finally, it snaps.

"I'm almost there."

His legs are barely holding him up, his _back_ is barely holding him up, but Viktor doesn't doubt him one second. It's all core work, Yuuri's hipbones swaying like they're calling for Viktor to fit his hands over them, to lick or kiss them.

"You can come now," Viktor blurts out, and that opens the floodgates; "you've been so good, Yuuri, you're always so good to me."

Yuuri's hips stutter, then snap down with renewed energy, wringing Viktor's dick like he's trying to milk him, and Viktor bites down on his lip blindly, anchoring himself with the pain to keep from coming right then and there.

"Yeah? You're not just-- just saying that, right?"

Pleased laughter bubbles out of him, light and sharp like cool champagne. Yuuri's nreathless, Yuuri's edging out of his slow-burn rhythm, all thanks to Viktor." _Yuuri_ \-- when have I ever gone easy on you?"

"Right," Yuuri agrees, and lets himself fold forward, reaching down. Viktor is already untangling himself from the sheets. Their hands meet in middair, and it's like they're dancing, then, Yuuri holding himself up by clutching Viktor's fingers, his bottom lip between his teeth and face cast in a slight frown as his hips move in circles, like he's trying to find the perfect arch to an arabesque or a spin from the cocks inside him.

Viktor's own orgasm is building, in the hollow of his back and behind his eyelids, and deep in his lower belly, coaxed closer and closer by the jauntier rolls of Yuuri's hips, and how hard Yuuri is breathing.

"Getting close-r. Closer," honesty drives out of him. If he ruins Yuuri's beautiful efforts he won't forgive himself.

"I--" Yuuri bites the next word off, clinging to Viktor's fingers so hard the bones grind together. "Get me there."

And that's all Viktor wants, really, that's all Viktor's wanted. Praise pours from him like water from a fountain, like caresses, reaching for every inch of Yuuri and stroking, fondling him, showing him off to himself. He makes his voice caramel, his words flowing and thick like honey, he wants it to be as sweet for Yuuri as Yuuri is to him.

"Oh, Yuuri, _zolotse_ , my heart, if you could see yourself, you take my breath away, you're a moment in flight. You're beautiful, won't you come with me? I'm waiting for you, Yuuri, I'm ready. Come, Yuuri, please. You deserve it."

Maybe it's because of the way the last compliment is phrased as fact, unarguable and unbiased, or maybe it's the cascade of them that overwhelms him, or maybe it's just that he's finally allowed himself to: Yuuri finally lets orgasm catch up to him. 

He erupts in thick, seemingly endless ropes of come that lash wide through the air, and catch all the way up to Viktor's hair, painting Viktor's face with strands of hot semen. 

Yuuri's ass clamps down like it's afraid Viktor will take his dick away, and Viktor's being squeezed in the hottest, tightest vise, fingers scrabbling, scratching blindly as he sees stars, and coupled with Yuuri's little sigh, that does it for Viktor. Orgasm crashes into him like a freight train, slams him shouting and spurting inside Yuuri.

He's barely aware of Yuuri slowly crumpling down on him, whimpering with relief, chests sticking together, until Yuuri moves a bit and the dildo jostles unpleasantly against Viktor's soft dick. He grimaces.

"Maybe we should get this out of you," he suggests, palm roaming down Yuuri's back for his entrance.

When Viktor's fingers knock against the toy, Yuuri hisses. "Viktor, careful."

"Sorry," Viktor apologizes. His hand hovers on Yuuri's hip, stroking in comforting circles as Yuuri braces himself on one elbow and pulls the dildo out.

"I'm a bit sensitive right now," Yuuri explains. 

Viktor would tell Yuuri he doesn't need to justify himself, but the words flee him, his attention caught by the ease with which the dildo slides out of Yuuri. His dick's slipping out at the same time, coated in fluids, the air suddenly cool on his skin, and it leaves Yuuri's hole loose and empty. Nothing to keep Viktor's come inside now, and it trickles out slowly. 

Mesmerized, he inches his hand closer. Yuuri shifts. "Viktor."

"Can I?"

It takes Yuuri a moment to consider, during which Viktor steals glances at his face. His hair is matted with perspiration, cheeks mottled red; and he's squinting down at Viktor.

"Yes," Yuuri decides. 

It's a struggle to look away from Yuuri's face and leave the tiny crease between his brows alone, but Viktor guesses he's already been warned, so he looks down their bodies at the place where a mix of semen and lube is slowly leaking out of Yuuri's hole, and swipes a finger in it.

Yuuri tenses. "If you put it back inside--"

"I won't, Yuuri, you did tell me you're sensitive." He pauses. "Unless you want me to?"

Yuuri gathers his arm around his face, his next words slightly muffled. "I. No. Please don't stuff me with it, Viktor."

Viktor hums in agreement. The come coating his fingers is still warm-ish, but cooling quickly. Sticky, and yet slick. 

Yuuri's face is still tucked away. From past experience, he's probably rewinding the entirety of their activities from the point of view of sudden, heightened self-consciousness. It's just something he does; Viktor sticks his arms around Yuuri like the world's most amorous octopus, waiting for the moment Yuuri weights smugness against embarrassment and self-satisfaction wins out. It always does, but for this first minute when Yuuri can't believe what he's capable of.

Nothing Viktor can do but wait it out, so he figures, why not make the best of it. Viktor sticks his tongue out and starts licking his fingers clean.

After a few seconds, the sound attracts Yuuri's attention, who pulls his hands away from his face and stares at Viktor, who is licking his fingers with the same enthusiasm he'd give if they were sticky with jam. 

His lips drop open. Viktor grins at him.

Yuuri clears his throat. 

"Right. Give me some," he says, and instead of going for the fingers Viktor's presenting, he pulls Viktor's head to him, catching his lips in a kiss.

It's a simple kiss, with no acrobatics or seductions, just the simple press of open mouth on open mouth and the warm, lazy joining of tongues. 

Soon they'll have to move; soon Yuuri will want a shower, and they'll wash each other until Viktor kisses the place between Yuuri's shoulderblades and leaves him to decompress alone the rest of the way. Then Viktor will strip down their bed, put on the fresh sheets Yuuri prepared earlier, so when Yuuri gets out of the shower he can climb on the bed and claim it like a sated king his throne, and Viktor can wrap himself around him again.

Soon; for now, there is only the kiss, and the way Yuuri's fingers card lovingly through Viktor's hair.

**Author's Note:**

> There is absolutely no chance that the next time they fuck, Yuuri doesn't produce a plug to keep his come inside Viktor. Sorry Viktor, you know the rules, give Yuuri an idea and he'll run with it. 
> 
> It's been a good long while since I last wrote smut, please consider leaving a kudo or dropping a line if you think that was okay.


End file.
